The Morass
by Corvida-Margareth
Summary: A nightmare Megara has while adjusting to the fact that Hercules isn't going to leave her.


_The Morass_

_It always started the same way, idyllic and blissful as the day could be. Hercules walked her through the park, gazing fondly down at her with that silly grin and those lowered eyelids. All the same... a breeze stirred the trees, and she attempted with all her might to ignore the chill._

_"Could you wait here, just a moment?" Hercules asked, kissing her on the forehead and guiding her towards a bench._

_"Sure," she said, though in the growing cold, she felt all the more desolate at the loss of contact. She sat like a good little girl on the bench, her ankles tightly crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. She looked up at him and watched as he jogged off._

_What could he be after? She sat, perfectly still, but the world around her whipped into turmoil. Dark clouds swept up to choke the sun, and the foreboding that seized Meg's chest threatened to do the same to her. It grew darker, and chill rain began to needle her arms._

_Why wans't he back yet?_

_Even if she were going to be okay, even if she _could_ take care of herself, Wonderboy was never one to believe that. So why wasn't he here? Why did she feel so desperate for him? She was better than this. She was stronger, she knew better. He would show. She just had to keep waiting, because he wanted her to._

_With a twinge of pain, Meg realized that there was one very good reason he would want to keep her from seeing where he'd gone. She got up, already numb from the pounding rain, her hair hanging heavily around her shoulders, and sloshed off in the direction he'd gone._

_There was only one path, and as the wind picked up it drove the rain, now turned to ice, into her eyes. She kept moving, refusing to cry out lest she seem desperate, or afraid, or... any number of the things she actually was._

_Ahead, she saw a golden light. Gold like the aura that had shone from Hercules when he'd been deified. She rushed towards it, though she was starting to notice that it was hard to walk. her sandals slid through steadily deeper water, and she stumbled once, but kept walking. Never once did she cry out. She wasn't some baby that needed to be coddled, she was a woman, and she could take care of herself._

_She would just much rather be with Hercules, if she could help it._

_The hem of her dress dragged and she could feel the water creep higher up on her leg, until when she was almost to the source of the light, inside a house._

_Meg found herself grasping at the railing of a window, lest she should fall. Then she saw._

_Through the window, Hercules was visible, shining like the sun, just as he had been when he rejected his place on Olympus for her. He knelt in front of a gorgeous young woman, clasping her hands._

_"I can't believe I got my godhood back for helping you," he said, staring adoringly into her eyes._

_"I'm not selfish enough to make you stay," the girl said, and as she spoke, she got to her feet, and began to glow a rosy pink._

_"Amazing," Hercules breathed, adoringly. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life."_

_Meg's hands began to weaken their hold on the railing, and her throat grew strained from holding in a scream. There was water all the way up to her hips now, and she shuddered. The cold wasn't just outside, anymore, it was inside her._

_The girl began to approach the door, taking Hercules by the hand and starting to lead him to it._

_"No," Hercules said, tugging her back, and for an instant, Meg thought he saw her before saying, "it's disgusting out there." He turned his back on the window, and took the woman in his arms. "We belong in here, together. Olympus can wait."_

_That was the last straw. Nothing was left for her, anywhere._

_She'd given her life twice._

_Neither time had anyone cared, no matter how much it seemed Wonderboy had._

_She was tired._

_Too tired to hold on._

_She let go, and the rising water swept her away into the frigid darkness._

"Meg?" Hercules's voice, soft and concerned, accompanied a large, warm hand on her arm. "You're shivering."

Meg squeezed her eyes shut, and held her body curled tight. "I'm fine," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and pulled her to him.

"Yeah, fine," she reiterated. "I'm just... cold."

"Not for long," he said, both lovingly and yet playfully as he pulled her against him. He really was the sunlight incarnate, warm and bright.

So why was it so easy to lose sight of that?


End file.
